


The Fairytale Of Gotham

by SheWritesDirty



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Christmas Magic, Competitive Gingerbread House Decorating, Established Relationship, Flirty Garbage, Fluff, Light Bondage, Lube, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Riding, Size Kink, Women's Underwear, a little crackish, anal penetration, and maybe some other stuff, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21932488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheWritesDirty/pseuds/SheWritesDirty
Summary: You probably shouldn't read this. Also I cant be bothered to write a summary so here's an excerpt instead."How do you keep getting into my apartment without a key?" John sighed out, changing the subject. He had asked this question quite a few times, and Bane always eluded giving him an actual answer."Because we are lovers, am I not welcome?" Bane asked, hanging an ornament on a particularly gnarled branch - it looked suspiciously like it was home made."No - I mean, yes you're welcome..." John rubbed the heel of his palm into his eyes "Just, I'm going to get you a key, and then you're telling me how you've been getting in... because itscreepy.""Creepy is for Halloween John, during Christmas time it'smagic." Bane winked at John as he said the word 'magic', and it made him feel a little sick to his stomach.
Relationships: Bane (DCU)/John Blake
Comments: 11
Kudos: 106





	1. The Sex Shop On 24th Street

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Illicit_Hiraeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illicit_Hiraeth/gifts).



> We conceived the premise for this fic together, in frantic texts between one another. So this is as much her fault as it is my own, take your complaints to her doorstep not mine!
> 
> ~*<3 Merry Christmas @Illicit_Hiraeth, forever my kink sister <3*~
> 
> PS: HOLY SHIT, this fic is literally kicking my ass - and I have like two and a half chapters finished, so you can have two chapters now and hopefully I finish chapter three tomorrow... I wanted to have this done for Christmas Eve except im on vacation and literally sitting in a hotel room at 3:23 am writing this note right now so yeah. I WILL TRY MY bEST BUT NO PROMISES.
> 
> Also my friend just told me i've been spelling Johns name wrong this entire time which, I kind of don't know how that happened and am now proceeding to go through and fix every instance of it so that's fun.

It was snowing, sparkly, white crystals drifting down and coating the dirty streets of Gotham. John hugged his coat closer to himself - he had always _hated_ the Christmas season... nothing managed to shove the fact that he didn't have a family in his face more than seeing all the advertisements spewing out _'Home with the family for the Holidays!_ ', with generations upon generations all crowded around their Christmas trees.

If he had it his way, he would just skip over the month of December entirely and never have to experience any of the sickeningly, sugary-sweet Christmas fervor that seemed to infect people this time of year. But he technically had someone to celebrate with now... which in and of itself was weird... And he apparently had to get him some sort of present, because Bane - as it turns out - was _extremely_ excited by the prospect of Christmas.

When John had tried to explain the holiday to Bane, he swore he could see the other man's eyes lighting up. Which was just great... Because that meant he was going to have to actually make an effort. Which explains why he was currently walking around in the middle of a goddamn _snowstorm,_ trying to find whatever he was going to get Bane for Christmas.

Seriously what did you even buy a guy like that? Napalm? An assault rifle? Bedazzled leather straps for one’s respirator? None of which were currently in the display windows of the shops in Gotham, instead he passed by fancy silk ties, shiny leather dress shoes, a sterling silver cigarette case, fluffy slippers with moose heads on them - and he couldn't picture Bane using any of that garbage, besides maybe the slippers - which he instantly felt a deep regret over having pictured.

He grumbled and stalked along, passing crowds of far more cheery pedestrians - honestly why did everyone had to be so goddamn _happy_? It was nauseating - things were still as horrible and corrupt as they always were in Gotham, and yet people acted like everything was just fine... Just because it was Christmas?

John keyed in to the sound of a ringing bell, and he looked up to spot a Salvation Army Santa standing with a donation bucket - most people were walking by him without so much as a second thought, it was almost like they didn't even see him. John wrestled his wallet out of his back pocket and fished around for a five, tossing it into the bucket and nodding his head to the Santa as he walked by.

Except- a gloved hand swiftly shot out and grabbed at John’s arm, and he nearly reared back and punched the man… but his brain quickly supplied the fact that it was just a collections Santa and it probably wouldn't look good if he laid the man out on the side of the street.

“Excuse me son, but you seem to be lost.” The Santa said, his voice was far too jolly for John's liking - he must have been pretty committed to this Santa gig.

“What?” John said, letting his irritation at being stopped color his voice.

“24th Street... Dream Land awaits.” The Santa said cryptically, winking and releasing John’s arm.

 _‘Okay, John - just back away slowly, don't make eye contact with the crazy-as -fuck guy in a Santa suit’_ he thought, while doing just that. The Santa waved cheerily after him as he left. People got so _weird_ around Christmas time... Seriously, this is why he hated the holiday - maybe if he told Bane about Hanukkah he could get him obsessed with that instead. 

As John rounded the corner a street sign glared down at him reading ‘24th Street’, and he wasn't - _absolutely_ wasn’t - going to go down it, he was _not_ going to follow the directions of a deranged man in a Santa costume. Except his feet seemed to completely ignore his head, and turned to walk down the street against his will.

It was a few minutes before the shop front with a sign reading ‘Dream Land’ came into his view - it didn't have a window display like the shops around it, in fact it didn't seem to have any windows at all… And it was sort of tucked in between two other, much larger shops - you probably would have missed it if you hadn't just had a strange encounter with a man dressed as Santa saying its name to you for no apparent reason.

John just stood there in front of the door, staring up at the sign and silently waging an internal war with himself. He wasn't really going to go in was he? This was absolutely ridiculous… That Santa probably had some sort of brand deal, got a 20% cut if he sent hapless passerby’s into this stupid shop. Still, John found that he was reaching his hand out, turning the knob and stepping in despite himself. 

He was all at once assaulted by the overwhelming smell of sugary sweetness in the air, which probably would have lead you to believe that this was just some sort of candy shop - but the first item he saw completely destroyed that notion. There was a thick black ball gag affixed across the face of a buxom mannequin, she was wearing some sort of fuzzy pink brassiere and panties - and she had a leather whip duct taped firmly to her hand. John was about to turn straight around and march right back out of the shop, when a voice called out to him. 

“Can I help you dearie?” An old woman waddled around from the back of the shop and squinted over at John, before picking up a set of silver half-moon spectacles up from where they hung around her neck and peering at him through them. _‘What kind of actual infernal hellscape is this,’_ he thought, _‘that a woman old enough to be someone’s grandmother is working in a fetish wear shop?’_ John felt for a moment like his heart was actually going to fall through his ass and splat onto the floor.

“Oh my, you look like you could use something to help loosen you up.” The old lady said innocently, picking up a floppy pink dildo from one of the shelves and waving it at him.

“N-no… I’m just- just looking.” He stammered out, flushing bright red. _Leaving_ , he had meant to say leaving… Right?

“It's the perfect time of the year, buy a gift your significant other will never forget.” The old lady said saucily, and John quickly realized this crazy biddy was some sort of devil masquerading in old-ladies clothing.

“Right…” John said, turning towards a rack of lingerie and pretending to leaf through it. He could just spend a few minutes looking and then make some excuse and high tail it out of there.

“I have just the thing for you!” The lady exclaimed, shuffling off behind a shelf of butt plugs - John shuddered as he laid eyes on a massive black rubber plug with a furry cat tail twizzling out of the end of it. He went back to looking through the lingerie, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of lace, feathers and straps that seemed to cover every inch of the underthings.

“Here we are!” The woman’s voice exclaimed from behind John, and he turned to look. She was holding up a shiny black latex bodysuit - there was a zipper down the front of the crotch, and tiny, haunting eye and mouth holes were cut into the hood. John was speechless, but his mouth hung open in a silent scream.

“Too much?” The old lady asked, looking the suit up and down with consideration.

“Just a little bit.” John squeaked out, and the lady disappeared behind the buttplug shelf again. John wandered over to a table littered with vibrators, a tiny hand made sign read _‘Kick off the new year with some good Vibes!’_

The old lady returned for a second time, carrying an intricately detailed french maid costume - feather duster and little frilly bonnet included. “There’s no way your man will be able to resist this.” She said, raising an eyebrow suggestively at him, and John wondered in the back of his head what about him had lead her to guess that he was gay.

“Still a little much.” John said, he was slowly starting to get used to the weird vibe from this old lady and the shop around him. She shuffled off again, muttering something about _‘hard to please twinks’_ under her breath. The old woman came back for a third time, holding up a simple set of delicate, red lace underwear. They were definitely meant for women, and John found himself trying to ignore the tiny pang in his heart at that thought.

“Such a boring young man, with all that virility you should be putting it to good use.” The woman tutted, as she came forward and placed the lingerie into John's hands, a little twinkle in her eyes.

“I...” John was _going_ to tell her that he didn't want these either, except that he was finding it harder than it should have been to get the words out. It wasn't the first time he’d felt this way, when the other boys at the orphanage were sneaking playboys in order to ogle the women - John found himself more interested in what they were _wearing_. It was an interest he had instantly squashed, after he had said as much and the other boys looked at him like he had just sprouted horns.

“I’ll ring you up over here, unless there's something else you might want?” The old lady suggested, peering back over her shoulder at him as she made her way towards the checkout counter.

“No… No this is all.” John said, setting the lingerie on the counter. He tried not to choke on his own air as the set rang up for sixty dollars, he must not have hid his shock very well because the old lady shook her head.

“Quality is always worth the extra.” She said, wrapping John’s purchase in a soft pink tissue before sliding it into a plastic bag with the ‘Dream Land’ branding stamped on the front. “Do come again.” she said with a crafty smile, holding the bag out for John to take.

He thanked her, for what he wasn’t really sure… he had come in expecting to walk right back out and she had talked him into wasting his money. He exited the shop and stepped back into the chilly night air, snow still drifting down pleasantly. Many citizens of Gotham were still rushing about, hoping to get any last minute Christmas shopping done. John glanced down at the bag in his hand, and the blatant ‘Dream Land’ logo splashed across the front… The L looked suspiciously like a dildo. He stuffed the bag into the inner pocket of his winter coat, because there was no way in _hell_ he was walking around Gotham with that on display.

~*~ 

John slotted his key into the lock, turning and pushing open the door to his apartment. Stepping inside he was immediately struck by the fact that a rather large and impossibly ugly Christmas tree was sitting in his living room.

“ _What the fuck?_ ” He questioned out loud, staring at the hulking bushy pine that was taking up one third of the already limited space in the room. It had some of the most massive barren spaces he had ever seen in a tree, branches shooting out haphazardly… and it looked as though someone had forgotten to trim the tree to fit, as a result the tip was bent half over laying flush against the ceiling.

“Merry Christmas, John.” Bane’s voice said from somewhere in the room, sounding far too pleased with himself considering the situation. John hadn't even noticed the man was _here_ , being that he was so preoccupied with the horror that was sat in the middle of his living room.

“Bane, why is this monstrosity in my apartment?” Truly, it was enormous, he was still trying to come to terms with whatever strange reality he had just walked into.

“For tradition.” Bane stated proudly, and John vaguely recalled how excited Bane had looked when he told him about how families gathered around the Christmas tree to open presents.

“Where did you even get this thing?” John asked, knowing full well there was no way Bane actually bought this mess from a store.

“Barsad and I cut it down ourselves.”Bane replied, “I waited for you, so that we could decorate it together.” 

John noted the pile of lights and strange ornaments that he had never before seen in his life sat next to the tree. “Great... let me just-” John struggled out of his coat, tugging off his mittens and his scarf, hanging them on a coat rack. John’s earlier purchase, tucked away in his pocket and completely forgotten in the face of this surprise. He came forward, kneeling down to untangle a pile of lights, he had never actually decorated a tree before, but he figured it couldn’t be _that_ difficult right...?

...By the time he and Bane had managed to get the last string of lights wrapped around the tree, John wanted to kill him. They had fought about _everything _, Bane had bought both white _and_ colored lights - and there weren’t even enough to wrap the entire tree… So the spacing between strings was kind of awkward, Bane suggested simply lighting only the bottom half of the tree, which nearly drove John to hysteria.__

__“HOW IS THAT BETTER?” He had shouted, half consumed by the trees massive branches - he had to tuck himself in behind the needles in order to circle the tree and pass the string out the other side to Bane, because the tree was pushed into a corner of the room, and Bane was far too bulky to fit behind it himself._ _

__“Maybe we should have just put lights in the front.” Bane said as John extracted himself from the prickly pine bowels of what he was now deeming to be the ‘Tree of Absolute and Utter Evil’ John blanched, because _yes_ , they probably should have done that… But there was no way he was unwrapping the entire tree and fixing it now._ _

__“It’s perfect.” John snapped, flopping onto the couch and sending a pile of popcorn flying into the air. He didn't even want to ask why there was just loose popcorn spread about the cushions…_ _

__“You don’t seem very jolly.” Bane said flatly, air hissing through his respirator as he crouched to grab an ornament from the pile that was set out on the floor. Banes massive size looked comical, hunched over in John’s tiny living room._ _

__"How do you keep getting into my apartment without a key?" John sighed out, changing the subject. He had asked this question quite a few times, and Bane always eluded giving him an actual answer._ _

__"Because we are lovers, am I not welcome?" Bane asked, hanging an ornament on a particularly gnarled branch - it looked suspiciously like it was home made._ _

__"No - I mean, yes you're welcome..." John rubbed the heel of his palm into his eyes "Just, I'm going to get you a key, and then you're telling me how you've been getting in... because its _creepy_."_ _

__"Creepy is for Halloween John, during Christmas time it's _magic_." Bane winked at John as he said the word 'magic', and it made John feet a little sick to his stomach._ _

__“Don’t wink at me, I’m mad at you.” John said petulantly, picking up a piece of popcorn and popping it in his mouth._ _

__“Perhaps you do not want any presents, and that is why you act so very naughty.” Bane said in a tone completely devoid of humor as he placed a second ornament onto the tree. John groaned, peeled himself up off the couch to help Bane hang things onto branches._ _

__With the two of them working together, the tree was soon covered in glittering balls, the popcorn - which, John didn't bother bringing up that it was supposed to be strung on a string - and strange, intricate wooden ornaments that he suspected Bane and Barsad had carved themselves. He tried to picture Bane sitting there calmly, carving tiny butterflies and deer out of pieces of wood - and it just seemed so foreign, so deceptively gentle… It was like how Bane was with him, a hardened, cruel man turned back into someone who was capable of a surprising softness._ _

__“Beautiful.” Bane said, and John was pulled out of his own head - and Bane was right, somehow the tree looked beautiful… And when John turned to agree, Bane wasn’t looking at the tree. He was staring at John, eyes twinkling in the glow of Christmas lights._ _

__John flushed, looking away with embarrassment. “Shut up.”_ _

__“Make me...” Bane challenged, walking forward, crowding into John’s space and wrapping his massive arms around him. John turned until their chests were pressed against each other, rising upon his tippy toes - Bane always towered over him, his body was so large that John sometimes felt like it might overwhelm him, that thought alone excited him far more than it probably should have. He wrapped his long slender arms around Bane’s neck, pulling him down until John could press a soft kiss onto the cold metal surface of Bane’s mask._ _

__John had come to learn that there was a certain hesitance in Bane, like he was afraid to take too much... afraid of doing something that John didn’t want. Which was ridiculous, because John wanted all of him, and he had never been more sure of a lover. So John shoved Bane in the center of his chest, and really - he was under no assumption that Bane would have gone if he had not willed it - but all the same Bane fell back onto the couch like he wasn’t a three-hundred and fifty pound tank of a man._ _

__John followed close behind, straddling the mans thick muscular thighs and sliding into his lap. _“Thank you.”_ he whispered, pulling in close to Bane’s ear, letting his breath ghost hotly across the other man’s skin._ _

__Bane hummed, his chest rising and falling deeply - the strain of his breath, the hissing of his mask, they were the things that used to worry John when they were close like this. But now he knew it was just Bane’s excitement, that he wasn’t really in any pain. As if in emphasis of this thought, John could feel the other man’s arousal pressing into his ass, pushing insistently against the restrictive fabric of John’s jeans._ _

__His breath hitched as he ground his hips down into Banes lap, whose hands were laying at his sides - palms resting open on the couch cushions. John’s own hands were fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one at a time. “Touch me.” John commanded softly, as he finished and tossed his shirt aside. The crinkle of skin around Bane’s eyes told John that he was smiling, and his hands rose to trace firm patterns in John’s skin._ _

__Bane’s touch was a contradiction, a mix of soft and rough, slow deliberate movements, the rough pads of his fingers, thumb pushing into John’s slight belly fat as he brushed over the skin there. John kept rolling his hips slowly, keeping a steady pace as Bane’s breath came in heavy gusts in reaction to the friction between them.._ _

__John’s lips fell to press light, fluttery kisses against the exposed skin on Bane’s face - John had always found it hard to express in words how he felt for Bane… truly there way no way that any words could ever properly say how he was so hopelessly, _utterly_ devoted. And so he tried to show it, lips ghosting across Bane’s face as if he was afraid of bruising him. And through the way his hands felt along Bane’s broad chest and traced the muscle there, hiking up the shirt that lay in the way. Through his own labored breathing, and the hitch of his hips as the hard line of Bane’s arousal rubbed against him._ _

__John could remember the sense of urgency, the first time they had been together - the rush to remove clothing, to get their hands on one another… and that feeling returned every time, as if they didn't do this, as if they were touch starved despite engaging in this sort of thing quite frequently. He pushed himself up and away from Bane, sliding over his muscular thighs and off his lap. Bane let out a groan of protest at the withdrawal of John’s slender body away from his._ _

__“Sometimes we must show great discipline in the face of what we want.” John mocked, stepping away with grace - it was something Bane had said to John before, the way he spoke sometimes made John feel like Bane thought he was a child… That Bane thought he had to _teach_ him things, and it had been the source of some contention in the early days of their relationship. Now John had come to terms with the fact that it was just the way Bane spoke, and he now took great pleasure in parroting Bane’s own words back in completely inappropriate ways. The look of long-endured suffering that crossed Bane’s face was something John reveled in._ _

__“Does it please you to annoy me?” Bane called after him, as John hurried down the hall and into the bedroom. He searched through the bedside table, before withdrawing a small tube of lubricant, when he re-entered his modest living room he took in Bane’s large frame, leaning back against the cushions on his rather small couch. John’s mouth watered at the sight, Bane had taken the liberty of removing his shirt and freeing himself from his pants in the time John took to return, and his hand was slowly, languidly stroking up and down his ruddy, swollen cock._ _

__John tossed the bottle of lube at Bane, whose free hand shot out and effortlessly caught it out of the air. John made this whiny, needy sound that he would probably deny had ever come from him if anyone asked, and hastily went to unbutton his own pants and peel them off - he cursed himself for wearing such tight jeans as he struggled. Their eyes never left each other, an intense gaze like they were possessed - like they saw nothing else in this world besides each other._ _

__As soon as John had freed himself from his trappings, he closed the distance and slid back onto Banes lap - close enough that his naked cock pressed gently against the other mans. The velvety smooth sensation of skin on skin sent a shudder through John’s spine... a soft, sucked in breath pulled through his lips, as Bane moved to encase both of their lengths in his warm hand and began to pump his firm grip up and down. The tell tale snap of a cap being popped open cut into John’s building fog of arousal, and he jerked forward as something cold and slick suddenly touched his backside._ _

__“ _Warn me first_!” John hissed into Bane’s chest, having leaned forward to press his face there - nipping a sharp, threatening mark into the firm skin of one of Bane’s pectorals. He could feel the rumbling in Bane’s chest, vibrating through him as the man laughed - huffed mechanical crackling above him, where the breath was forced through Bane’s mask._ _

__“Of course my little Robin, I forgot.” Bane said, the mirth in his voice clearly perceptible even through the distortion. John was about to come back with some scathing retort, but Bane was circling his hole with a thick finger, and then he was pushing inside of John - slowly, but steadily. John’s breath gusted out of him at the sensation, a sudden chill inside him - mixing with the burn of his muscles as he was stretched open. And then Bane was in to the hilt, he twisted his hand, hooking his finger so that he could press into that place that sent John trembling. Bane took sex painfully slow, it seemed as if he would have been happy to stay like this forever - one hand wrapped around them, gliding firmly up and down just enough to keep John’s arousal on the edge… The other deep in his ass, not enough to fill him - a single finger teasing firmly but slowly. John on the other hand, wanted like he was desperate for it - spurring Bane on like he couldn’t live without more… more -_ _

__“ _More_.” John huffed out, licking a needy stripe of saliva up Bane’s chest, tasting the salty heat of his skin. The rumble in Bane’s chest this time was decidedly less humorous, it was more akin to a growl - and his finger pulled from within John, only for the intrusion to return in twice its size as Bane added a second finger. John ground his hips back to meet him, urging him in deeper - crying out as Bane met his lust with a punishing thrust of his fingers. The rhythm Bane found was controlled, precise and methodical… Hitting John’s sweet spot with a practiced accuracy, each time his fingers pushed back in._ _

__“W-wait…!” John suddenly begged, a tight heat was coiling in his abdomen - Banes fingers stilled immediately. “I want you.” John implored, pulling himself forward until the other man’s fingers slid out. He batted Bane’s hand away from where it was wrapped around their cocks, lifting himself up on to his knees, thighs trembling lightly with the strain of it._ _

__Bane’s hands moved to find John’s hips, gripping tight, fingers biting sharply into the skin. It was likely he would have marks there in the morning, and that thought alone sent a thrill through him. John’s hand wrapped firmly around the base of Bane’s swollen length, lining it up with his now slick opening. Bane groaned as the head of his cock slid up along John’s perineum, gliding effortlessly across the lube slick skin and settling in between John’s perk ass cheeks. John huffed irritably and re-positioned himself, lining up for a second time before baring down again. This time he sighed out breathily as he felt a thickness pushing in, an intense heat filling him, the feeling as if it was going to burn him up from inside of him. John let loose a high whine as his muscles stretched to give way for Bane’s impressive size._ _

__And really, it _was_ that. The first time they had tried, John had complained that he didn't think it would even fit… but as it turns out, the human body is an amazing thing, and they had found a way. But that didn’t make it any less intimidating, any less of an _effort_ to take in. Sweat was pooling, and dripping down John’s chest - his thighs trembled with the strain of lowering himself slowly down, with all the control he could muster… Bane’s fingers were biting cruelly into John’s hips, his eyes were screwed shut, pinched in concentration as if it took all of his will power not to take things into his own hands… not to thrust up into John, not to simply take what he needed. _ _

__Finally, John came to rest against his own calves - his ass pressed flush with Bane’s muscular thighs. He took a shuddering breath and gave himself a moment to adjust to the thickness filling him. Bane’s fingers began tracing soothing circles into the skin where they had previously dug into, as if in apology for his mindless action. John always found himself chasing after the strange duality of the man under him, he craved both the pain and care in equal measure… He had expressed as much to Bane, however the man still seemed to regret when he let slip his more violent nature - no matter how much John told him that he wanted it, wanted all of Bane… even the pain._ _

__He rolled his hips - sending himself forward so that Banes cock ground into the tight, slickened muscle inside him. Bane let loose a deep, rumbling growl out from somewhere within his chest - and John could feel it vibrating through his body. John road Bane with an unsurprising measure of strength and stamina - all thanks to frequent training sessions, on behest of his job for the Gotham PD no doubt. He lifted himself up on his knees, only to impale himself again, rocking his hips forward each time Bane bottomed out in him - crying out when the head of Bane’s cock would hit at just the right angle. His hands found themselves on Bane’s chest, fingers splaying out, open palms pressing into the firm muscle there - he could feel how tense they were, drawn tight, twitching lightly under John’s touch._ _

__“John…” Bane’s voice hissed through his mask, and John’s hands balled into fists against him - nails scratching lines into skin. He pushed them harshly against Bane’s chest as he rocked his hips, grinding forward and back rhythmically. Bane must have decided that he had laid still long enough, because he began moving his own hips to match John’s pace, pushing them up into John as if he could somehow drive himself even deeper._ _

__John couldn't hold back the soft, lilting moans that were drifting out from between his slack, parted lips - body jerking with the snap of Bane’s hips, punctuating each time he slid forward. One of Bane’s hands withdrew from its solid grip on John’s hip and wrapped firmly around the base of John’s cock, sliding up until his thumb could swipe across the tip and smearing the precum that had been pearling there. John’s breath hitched at the added sensation, pleasure lancing sharply through him from the added stimulation._ _

__“Bane…” John moaned the name, struggled to keep his eyes from screwing shut with the warm, tight sensation that was suddenly threatening to take over. He wanted to watch, keep his eyes pinned on Bane - the same way Bane’s were pinned on him, watching John intently. Like he was the only thing in this world worth looking at, pupils dilated, darkened with lust. Bane’s other hand left John’s hip and pressed fingers flat against his cheek, thumb curling under John’s chin - they rarely removed Bane’s mask to kiss, Bane had insisted on it early in their relationship - but John saw his suffering and soon demanded that they find another way, and so Bane’s hands touched John’s face… Traced the soft skin there, his lips…. John parted his lips further in an invitation, and Bane slid two fingers in. Let them rest heavily on John's tongue, they tasted of pine pitch and the salt of sweat. John’s saliva pooled in the back of his throat and he swallowed thickly around them, Bane hummed in approval. John could feel himself getting close, pressure building up in his stomach, his balls pulsing._ _

__John’s hand wrapped around Bane’s wrist and pulled the fingers from his mouth, a line of saliva dripping down his chin as the fingers came away easily. “I can’t-” John choked out, “I’m - I’m going to…” Muscles clenched around Bane’s cock as he thrust up into John, and with a sharp cry, John came. With Bane, it was like nothing he had ever felt before - it was like that thing he had doing before - with his own hand, the occasional one night stand - was nothing, like he was living in completely useless sexual monotony until his body had come together with Bane’s. It was all firing synapses, tingling nerves, stars behind his eyes, body shivering, a glowing euphoric haze taking over his mind. Cum shot out across Bane’s chest and hand, and John gave a few final, aborted thrusts of his hips before slumping forwards, resting his weight against Bane’s broad chest - completely exhausted._ _

__“John.” Bane said roughly, bringing his hands back to grip at John’s hips - lifting him up enough so that Bane could fuck into him, chasing his own release. John’s arms flung around Bane’s neck and clung there, pressing his face into the hollow of the other man's neck and whispering soft, unintelligible words of encouragement into the skin there. It didn't take long, Bane had taken up a punishing pace - driving his hips harshly, quickly, up against John’s ass. The lewd sound of skin against skin filled the air, and John’s words were replaced with soft broken sounds as his over sensitized hole twitched in gentle protest around Bane’s thick cock._ _

__And then he could feel Bane tensing under him, fingers biting even deeper into the skin of John’s hips - holding him down, John’s ass pressed flush against Bane’s thighs as the man came. An almost inhuman growl rumbled from somewhere in Bane’s chest as he shot his load deep into John, who shuddered as the thick, hot liquid flooded into him - filled him. And then Bane was relaxing back into the couch, letting his body go soft and slack. Bane’s breath was hissing brokenly out from his mask, as if he was trying to regain his breath. John lay still on top of him, completely blissed out, Bane’s cock softening inside of him._ _

__“Next year we should skip the tree and just do more of this.” John huffed out against Bane’s chest. He shook as the man under him chuckled, and John squirmed at the building discomfort of having Bane still inside him._ _

__“Did you really hate it so much?” Bane asked, in an apparent reference to their decorating the Christmas tree._ _

__“No.” John stated, surprising himself by the truth of that - lifting himself up on sore muscles until Bane slipped out of him - he could feel cum begin to drip down in between his thighs. “But I prefer _this_.” Leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss into the side of Bane's face. He hummed appreciatively, and they lay like that for as long as John could stand the sensation of wet stickiness against his ass and stomach._ _


	2. The Gingerbread Showdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might feel short, and that's probably because it is.

Bane was no longer there in the morning, John turned over in his bed to read the note the man had left on his nightstand. Smiling sleepily at Bane’s apologies for having to leave, that he had some _‘important business left to attend to’_ \- John really didn't want to know what that meant. Instead, he rolled out of bed - wincing as a dull pain throbbed in his ass, and although John generally didn't mind the morning-after-ache that followed sex, it still made him want to call in to work sick.

(Even though his fellow officers were for the most part, accepting of his lifestyle -(if not being slightly weary of the fact that John was dating someone who was once Gotham Cities public enemy number one- it didn't stop them from snickering in the break room like school kids when John struggled to bend and lift boxes off files.)

Except… he had already taken Christmas Eve and day off - when John had informed Bane that he generally worked through the Holidays the man had made a choked, incredulous sound, and then ordered John to take the days off this year. John hadn’t put up much of a fight, going to Gordon the next day and asking if it was alright.Gordon had replied with an _‘It’s about goddamn time, I’ve been trying to get you out of this building since you started here._ ” to which John flushed, knowing full well how many times Gordon had told him to stop taking overtime - to stop working long past where he had maxed out his overtime. But even so, John’s conscious would not let him then ask for even more time - and so he shuffled into his bathroom, digging through the medicine cabinet for a couple painkillers and taking them down with water from the tap.

He went on to get ready for the day, dressing in his usual button up/sweater combo - because why change something that worked? Gelling down his sleep tousled hair and grabbing a couple painkillers for the road, he would stop and get coffee and breakfast on the way. As he shouldered his coat on, he stuffed his hand into one of the pockets to store the painkillers - when his hand brushed against something plastic, crinkly… Suddenly John was reminded of his misguided purchase from yesterday, and he felt a tiny uncomfortable swirl in his stomach. He pulled the package out and stared at the tacky ‘Dream Land’ logo glaring back up at him - hesitating for only a moment before marching over to the wastebasket in the living room and dumping it there - not trusting himself to return it to the shop and not walk out with something else. He left for work, vowing not to think of this again...

John spent the entire day pouring over old case files, he had a hunch that the guy they were after now might have had something to do with some of their cold cases - there were details that seemed just too connected for John to ignore. It was exhausting work, but John would never forgive himself if something hidden in these dust covered files held the key, and went overlooked. As Gordon made to leave, he implied that John should do the same - _‘Those files will still be here after the weekend, John._ ’ he had said, wrapping a scarf around his neck. But John knew he wouldn’t be back Monday, because it was Christmas Eve, and he wouldn’t be back Christmas Day either… So he stayed another two hours, after Gordon had left, and he was the only one left in the precinct by the time he finally finished up - and so he took the time to make sure everything was locked up before he left.

By the time he was stepping out into the cold night air of Gotham, the time on his phone read eight thirty. He silently cursed himself, he had meant to try and find something for Bane’s gift today… But as it was now, most shops were closed, and John was tired and hungry anyway so he simply made his way home. By the time he had eaten - reheated takeout from the fridge - and set up the coffee pot in his kitchen so that all he had to do was press a button tomorrow, toed off his shoes and loosened his tie… he was just utterly exhausted. He threw himself in his still unmade bed from the morning, still in the majority of his clothing, and fell asleep almost immediately.

~*~

John awoke the next day with a reluctant groan, peering over to check the digital clock sitting on his bedside table. Eleven in the morning... he had _definitely_ overslept, but by this point he figured it probably didn't matter anymore. He turned over, fully intending to go right back to sleep. And then he was suddenly on high alert, a clinking sound echoing in from somewhere in the apartment. John was up and out of his bed in one smooth movement, sliding open the drawer in his nightstand and pulling out his gun. He stalked out into the hall, silently, listening intently as the sound continued - he pinpointed it as coming from the kitchen. As he approached the open door way light filtered in, shadows flickering in and out - someone was moving in front of the light. When John came to the door frame he rounded in and raised his weapon, training it in the direction he heard the noise coming from.

“Bane…!” John breathed out, relief and annoyance flooding through him simultaneously. 

“Your training has kept you alert.” Bane said conversationally, as if John hadn’t been holding him at gunpoint.

“What did I say, last time?” John asked irritably, lowering his weapon and setting it aside on the kitchen table.

“You still have not given me the key.” Bane explained, as if it was just that simple. John supposed it probably _was_ that simple, he just had no idea where the spare key was. Now that his adrenaline had settled, he took notice of the strange things that were spread out over his kitchen island.

“Uhh…” John began, Bane had gone back to what he must have been doing before John barged in on him - which was apparently, laying out a bunch of tiny parcels from within a shopping bag. “What is all this?” John asked weakly, afraid he already knew exactly what _‘this’_ was.

“We are going to make a Gingerbread house.” Bane said matter-of-factly, finally pulling the last thing from the bag - which was indeed, a Gingerbread kit. Bags of candy, frosting, and sprinkles littered the surface of John’s kitchen island, “Barsad helped me.” Bane admitted. If John didn't know any better, he probably would have been jealous of how much time Bane was spending with Barsad.

“Did he…” It was more of a statement than a question, but Bane still answered with a simple _‘Yes’_. The man looked far too excited by the prospect of decorating some stupid cookie house, as he opened the bags and began lining them up for easy access. 

“Alright… Let me just…” John circled around Bane to the other side of the kitchen and pressed the brew button on his coffee machine, it began gurgling wetly as it started to heat the water. 

Bane was staring at him now, “Coffee is an unnecessary crutch.” he stated, cutting open a bag of round swirly peppermints as he spoke.

“If you expect me to do this without coffee you’re crazy.” John fired back, fishing a mug out of one of the overhead cupboards.

“Tea is far more beneficial for you, it calms your mind.” John pulled a face a the words as Bane spoke them.

“Yeah… no.” John said, making pointed eye contact as he poured the dark drink into his mug as soon as it had finished brewing, Bane grunted and turned back to his work. Despite Bane having been in his kitchen a few times before, he was still amused by the sight it made… Bane’s massive frame curling forward so that he could reach the counters, his muscular arms held close to his body as if he was afraid of knocking into something. John came back around to stand beside the man, grabbing up the Gingerbread kit. He slid his finger under the cardboard lip and popped it open, before grabbing the plastic bags from inside and pulling them open.

John set out the pieces in front of them before pulling out the instructions and scanning them briefly before tossing them aside - Really, they were two full grown adults, and these things were made for _children_ how hard could it be? Bane was slicing open a bag of gumdrops with a military issue field knife, and John was trying extremely hard not to let it bother him. _It was bothering him_. He fished a pair of scissors out of one of the drawers in the kitchen and thrust them out for Bane to take, he ignored John and simply went on cutting bags open with his knife. _‘Well fine, if he wants to lose a finger that's his decision._ ’ John thought spitefully, turning to use scissors to cut tiny triangles into the corners of the bags of frosting lying about. Once they had finally gotten everything open, John took a well deserved victory sip of his coffee, sighing and surveying their work.

“What if we just ate all of this and skipped the decorating part?” John asked, considering the fact that he hadn’t had any breakfast yet.

“You show a lack of self control.” Bane admonished, but John could see the small crinkle of skin around his eyes that gave away how he was smiling under his mask.

“I’ll show you ‘ _self control_ ” John challenged, grabbing up a bag of white frosting and one of the slabs of Gingerbread.

“This is not a competition…” Bane said, in an attempt to quell whatever fire he had just unintentionally lit in John’s belly.

“We’ll see about that!” John was spreading frosting messily over the edges of the Gingerbread wall that was clasped in his hand, grabbing up another matching piece and holding them together until the frosting had stuck them.”There, I’ve already finished one.” John said smugly, glancing over at Bane - “What have you done?” he continued. Bane growled, grabbing up his own bag of frosting and starting on another piece of Gingerbread. It didn't take them long to assemble the entire structure, each trying to glue together both their pieces faster than the other - they were forced to work together to attach the roof.

“Time for the fun part.” John said, looking at their house triumphantly. Bane simply raised a brow at him, amused by the change in tone, John’s sudden interest in the project. John squeezed out a line of frosting straight down the center of the house, effectively cutting it in half. “Your side, my side” John said, motioning as he spoke. “May the best man win.” 

“You do not know what you are getting yourself into.” Bane warned, John scoffed. The next few hours were filled with an intense decorating fervor, as both men glued various candies onto their half of the Gingerbread house with frosting. When John was finished, he stepped back to admire his work. Sure, it wasn’t the prettiest thing, but he was _sure_ it was going to be good enough to beat whatever Bane had done.

“Hurry up, slowpoke!” John taunted, Bane was still hunched over his half - he made a humming sound as he placed a final gumdrop, before stepping away and mirroring John’s earlier sense of pride.

“Let me see yours.” Bane said smoothly, folding his arms across his chest. John reached out and placed his hand confidently on the cardboard base, only to blanch as Bane’s half revolved around to face him. Bane’s work was intricate, balanced, _perfect_ … Beautifully frosted icicles, shimmering under the kitchen lights, hung from the Gingerbread roof, which was now tiled perfectly with the scalloped edge of peppermint candies. Tiny little gumdrop Christmas lights outlined the frame of the house, licorice windows, chocolate bar siding frosted with delicate little icing snowflakes. John snapped his jaw shut before Bane could look up from inspecting John’s half notice his complete awe.

“You’ve done well.” John’s inner turmoil was cut short by Bane’s words, which were clearly an attempt at placating him.

“What!?” John shouted out incredulously, “It's like a fourth grader did mine!” he corrected - turning the cardboard back around until his own side faced him again. His frosting was messy, bits of candy had already begun to fall from where he had accidentally used too much frosting for them to stick properly - the marshmallow snowman he had made in the front yard was drooping miserably.

“It’s horrible!!!” John moaned in anguish.

“It is... creative.” Bane replied.

“You hesitated.” John said darkly, grabbing up a bag of frosting and brandishing it menacingly.

“No,” Bane was stepping back in an attempt to put some distance between them.

“You did!” John shouted, lunging for Bane - he was just quick enough to swipe a thick line of frosting across Bane’s mask. Both of Bane’s hands came up to grab John's arms, who was struggling like a hopped up ferret.

“You cheated, somehow!” John laughed out as Bane disarmed him and pinned his arms behind his back.

“I assure you, I did not.” Bane said fondly, using his free hand to wipe frosting from his mask and smear it on John’s nose. Bane’s entire weight was solid against him, pressing John into the kitchen counters. He sucked his lower lip in between his teeth, gazing up at Bane like he was hopelessly in love - which he _was_ , but that's besides the point. Bane groaned as he watched, and John could feel him stiffening against his leg.

“How will I ever redeem myself…” John breathed softly. Bane’s hand cupped John’s cheek, his thumb sweeping softly across pink, plush lips. John’s breath hitched as the rough calloused pad brushed over his skin like a kiss. Bane’s eyes were dark and reverent, gazing at John like he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen - like he wasn’t flush and a little sweaty with exertion from their earlier tousle, like he wasn't covered in frosting and sticky with candy. John moved his leg so that it pressed into Bane’s growing hardness and his breath hissed, crackling through his mask. Bane leaned in to the touch, and John’s breath heaved out as Bane’s full weight pushed against him. It was an almost claustrophobic feeling, having someone so large towering over you - holding you down… For John, that very feeling sent an electric bolt of arousal coursing through his body.

“Bane…” John huffed, squirming slightly. Bane pushed off of him,taking John up into his arms and spinning them until his own lower back was pressed against the kitchen counters instead. John laughed as he went, dropping gently back down on his toes when Bane set him back down. John’s hand palmed against the front of Bane’s pants, “Looks like you could use a hand.” he remarked saucily.

“Perhaps this is how you might redeem yourself.” Bane replied, more than happy to play along with this game. John hummed, as if considering it, before dropping down onto his knees. Looming above him, Bane quickly moved to thread his hands into John’s hair. Bane tugged softly as John nuzzled his nose into the seam of Bane’s pants, smearing frosting along the hard line of his erection.

“Oh. Sorry.” John breathed out, he had completely forgotten that there was frosting still on his face.

“Continue.” Bane urged, hand tugging at John’s hair just hard enough to sting. Arousal rushed through John, settling with a warm ache in his belly. His own cock stiffened in his pants as he licked out, cleaning away the offending mess as best he could using just his mouth. The fingers in John’s hair tightened and loosened as the breathing from Bane grew ragged above him. John’s hands flew up and deftly undid Bane’s button and zipper, hooking his fingers into the waistband and pulling down roughly. The outline of Bane’s cock stood stark against the thin fabric of his underwear, a small wet spot soaking into the place where the tip rested. John pressed a soft kiss into the length of it, sucking softly before pulling off. 

He glanced up, finding Bane’s eyes staring back down at him. Watching John like he was in a trance, following every movement with a hazy determination. John slid his open palms along Bane’s muscular thighs, trailing them upwards and curling his fingers around the edge of Banes underwear before pulling down. Bane was huge, and it wasn’t like John didn’t _know_ this already, but every time he got face to dick with the man like this - he found himself in sheer awe of the size again.

“It’s not gonna fit.” John said cheekily, calling up the words he had used the first time he and Bane had come to find themselves in this position. Bane snorted in response and tugged again, harder this time - John’s eyes watered.

John parted his lips and licked a slow, hungry line up the length of Bane’s cock. A metallic sounding gasp hissed out above him, and John felt spurred on. A small daub of pre-cum had leaked out from the tip of Bane’s cock, and John circled his tongue around it - the taste of salt and bitterness was something John had come to appreciate. Bane’s fingers were laced tightly through John’s hair as he teased along the underside of Bane’s shaft.

“Little bird.” Bane said imploringly, pulling him off and then pressing the blunt head of his cock insistently against John’s pursed lips. He made to admonish Bane for being so impatient, but as soon as his mouth opened to speak Bane was pushing in, cockhead sliding past John’s pink lips. He swallowed thickly around Bane’s length as it was pushed deeper into his throat, tongue trapped solidly under the weight of it. Bane stopped pushing half way in, but his hand held John from pulling back off, the first time John had tried to take Bane into his mouth it had been a real struggle - the mans cock was huge, but with practice John had become much better at it.

He swirled his tongue around the underside - as best he could with his mouth stuffed like it was - before angling himself to take the man in deeper. Bane groaned heartily as John’s wet heat took him in, and John could feel the blunt tip hit the back of his throat - he fought back the gag that was threatening to over take him.

John pulled back off, one of his hands going up to wrap around the silky skin at the base of Bane’s cock, twisting gently as he took Bane down for a second time. He kept a steady pace, bobbing his head and sliding his hand away from the base of the cock, using it instead to tug lightly at Bane’s balls. The breathing above John was growing more and more labored as he went, the hand in his hair tugging John back down each time he pulled too far off. Saliva was pooling in his mouth and he managed to swallow most of it down, but he still felt a small trail of wetness dripping out of the corner of his mouth. 

“John - I-“ Bane choked out, and John peered up at him - taking in the glassy eyed, lust blown expression - before swallowing him all the way down for a final time, nose pressed firmly into the curly hair nested at the base of his cock. He could feel Bane throb in his mouth, a hand holding him firmly down. John’s hands gripped harshly at Banes thighs, not to push away, but as if to hold on- like a physical tether that he didn’t want to break. And then Banes cum was in his throat, on the back of his tongue - he swallowed desperately as the warm, viscous liquid threatened to choke him. John gagged and Bane’s hand was pulling him back, cock popping out of John’s mouth only to finish ejaculating over his face instead.

“I’m sorry.” Bane said through gasping breaths, he looked so sated that If John hadn’t known any better, he might have thought Bane was being insincere. John hummed wordlessly, licking cum from his swollen lips.

“So, who won?” John asked, smirking up at Bane - his voice hoarse from the earlier effort.

“I think I have.” Bane sighed out.

“Fuck you.” John said without conviction.

“If you are not careful I will refuse to reciprocate.” Bane sassed back. John rose up from his knees, they ached and he was going to regret having been down on the floor like that later. He slung his arms over Bane’s shoulders, standing on his toes and leaning into the other man.

“I’d like to see you try.” John whispered against Bane’s neck, his own hardness pressing into Banes thigh from under his jeans.


	3. 'Twas the kink before Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of this might be a little rushed, because I was exhausted while I wrote it and I can't really be bothered to clean it up I WANT THIS FIC TO BE OVER - IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A ONE SHOT. WHAT THE FUCK. Still, I think it is the most enjoyable chapter, and I’m sorry for getting it up so late - I had intended to post this on Christmas Eve but I was a bit too busy.

John literally had less than twenty four hours to find a present for Bane - he was currently staring blankly into a shop window that was touting the _‘world's finest Christmas Onsies’_ \- they definitely didn’t have one in Bane’s size. His mind floated back to the bag from Dream Land that he had tossed away a couple days ago, he was regretting having not saved it as a last resort.

Except he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have had the guts to do it anyway - which meant he would have needed to find something else _anyway_... he had started to wonder if this was some sort of bad omen, like how difficult finding a gift for your significant other directly correlated with how compatible you were. In fact he was pretty sure they weren’t _at all_ compatible, but any time he even so much as thought about not being with Bane he got this queasy feeling and his chest tightened painfully - so fuck compatibility, right? 

He trudged on, various window signs trying to sell him on whatever they had inside;

‘Christmas fudge, hand made by our very own ‘elves’!’

‘Give the gift of memories this year, family photo ornaments starting at just 9.99!’

‘The key to her heart is diamonds!’ 

The key… key… the word echoed in John’s head, why? Why was that… and then it struck him, the _key._ He was going to give Bane the key to his apartment finally, after all this time of saying he was going to do it - he was _actually_ going to do it. He turned on his heel as if to leave Gotham’s shopping district, stopping at a tiny little shop on the way home to find a box to wrap it in.

The overhead bell tinkled as he entered, the store was absolutely _packed_ with stuff - stuff that had very clearly been hand crafted by Gotham’s own artist community. John walked to the back under the hopes of finding some tiny wooden box for his present, but a row of delicate painted clay birds caught his eye. As he came up to them one stood out to him; a Robin, intricate pattern of feathers on its back, a warm red color over its breast, the clay figure was huddled - as If trying to keep warm from the cold in its own feathers - but its eyes were sharp and alert.

John took the figure up into his hands to examine it further, it was rather light. He checked the underside for a price - thirty - and then felt the artist probably could have charged more if they wanted. He took the tiny robin to the checkout and paid, getting a box large enough to tuck the key in along side the bird. He smiled to himself as he left Gotham’s downtown shopping district, making his way back to his apartment, feeling like a huge weight was lifted from his shoulders. 

As soon as he entered his apartment he dug up the spare key and placed it inside the box as well. He was setting it gingerly under the tree when he noticed a strange, wrapped package already sat suspicious under its branches.

“What the…?” John started to question, and then darkness took over his vision as a bag was thrust over his head from behind - he lashed out, making an attempt to fight back against whoever his attacker was but they were faster, grabbing John’s arms and tying them painfully behind his back with a cord. John had hit the floor in the struggle, and now he lay there breathing heavily trying to weigh his options.

“Do not fight me, I do not want to hurt you… but I will if I must.” A familiar voice cut through the dark.

“Barsad?” John asked incredulously, words distorted by the fact that half his face was pressed into the floor. And then strong arms were wrapped around him, lifting him up and throwing him over their shoulder, leaving John’s apartment with him in tow. John tried to shake the bag from his head but it was tied off around his neck.

“How did you even get in here.” John asked resigned to his fate , knowing there was no way he was winning a fight against Barsad. The man just huffed an un-amused sound and tossed John down into… something. And then he heard the sound of something slamming shut above him - then silence, then a car engine rumbling awake. That motherfucker had stuffed him in a _trunk…_

As the they drove off to wherever he was being taken he gave a valiant effort to wiggle his arms out of his bindings. Growing frustrated John kicked out at the trunk and yelled out “At least put some music on!” There was silence for a moment longer, and then the sounds of Christmas music filtered in and John groaned, wishing he hadn’t said anything. 

In the dark, with his senses muted he counted down time spent by how many Christmas songs passed - one, two, three… and then the car pulled to a stop, the engine went silent, and he could hear the tell tail click of the trunk opening. Fresh, cool air rushed around him, chilling him - he shivered. Barsad's hands reached in and grasped his shoulder and hip, hauling him out and throwing John around his shoulders again. 

“Where are you taking me?” John asked, but it was pointless - Barsad merely hushed him, the sound of a door closing behind them. And then John was being set down in a chair, and another door closed - then silence.

“Hello??” John called out irritably, Seriously he was _not_ in the mood for this crap… when no one answered, he began trying to free himself from his restraints again, and promptly toppled himself off the chair with a loud _‘Thump’_. He could hear voices echoing, getting closer - and then the sound of a door opening.

“What did you do to him?” Bane's voice said from the direction of the door. 

“You asked that I bring him, you did not say how I should do so.” Barsad's voice replied.

“If one of you don’t untie me I am going to kill both of you and then it won’t really matter whose fault this is.” John bit out, his arm was cramping as he lay uncomfortably on it. He could hear someone’s shoes clacking across the floor as they neared him, sat him upright and removed the hood. John’s eyes adjusted to the light for a moment, and then he kind of wondered if he could go back in the bag. 

Bane was standing proudly in the doorway, dressed in a complete Santa outfit… Red jacket lined with fuzzy white trim that barely fit over his large, muscular frame, shiny black boots and a fluffy white beard taped onto the front of his mask, and a hat with the words _‘naughty’_ emblazoned across the front of the trim - which John mentally noted was completely inappropriate. The effect was that he looked like some horrific nightmare Santa, but John wasn’t about to say that with Bane looking as pleased with himself as he was in that moment.

“Surprise.” Barsad said flatly from behind John’s ear as he undid the wrist bindings.

“What am I looking at right now.” John asked, quickly realizing he knew where they were… it was familiar, it was the same place where he had spent his childhood… “What’s going on..?”

“I am Santa.” Bane stated, as if that somehow answered all of John’s questions - it did not.

“Why…?” John asked as he rubbed at his wrists absent mindedly. 

“For the children.” Bane explained, stepping forward to take John’s now free arm - leading him out into the main hall of the orphanage, where another massive Christmas tree much like the one in his own apartment stood - Except it looked far better in a space that was actually large enough to carry it. There were boxes upon boxes wrapped up and sat under the tree, and right next to that a tiny chair that someone had painted with red and white candy stripes. John’s jaw might have been hanging open, and he barely noticed as Barsad disappeared off somewhere.

“This is my gift to you.” Bane said, sitting down on the candy cane chair. And John wasn’t entirely sure how any of this was a gift, and then the doors to children’s rooms opened and they all came barreling out - swarming excitedly around Bane. John could hear them shouting all at once shouting what they wanted for Christmas, and Bane was parroting various Santa catch phrases like “hohoho” and “have you been a good little girl” it was probably simultaneously the most endearing and most terrifying thing he had ever witnessed.

And then the children were sitting on Banes knee, and he was handing out little wrapped parcels to each of them - and John was starting to realize what this really was.

"I wrapped that one." Barsad said suddenly from behind John, causing him to jump in surprise. Bane was handing out a surprisingly elaborate present to a little girl with no front teeth. 

John looked back to him and nearly did a double take, he was dressed in a green tunic now, with little gold bells tinkling all over - and green leggings. John blanched and tried really hard not to let his horror show on his face, if Barsad noticed he didn't say anything, simply looked on as Santa-Bane handed out more presents.

When John turned back to Bane all hell had broken loose, kids were hanging off of his arm, pulling on his beard and telling him what they wanted next year for Christmas, which was honestly adorable and John couldn't stop the funny fuzzy feeling that was building up in his stomach.

"BARSAD. HELP ME CONTAIN THE CHILDREN." Bane shouted out, as his red hat was pilfered by a five year old who ran past John screaming out a war cry of “CHRISTMAS!!!” - the _‘Naughty’_ santa cap falling down and obscuring his eyes as he went.

"Duty is calling." Barsad said with a straight face, dashing into the fray and peeling children off of Bane, only to have them cling to him instead. John took a moment to consider what sort of surreal hell scape his life had become, and how fucking grateful he was for it. He couldn't keep the eye crinkling smile off his face as he watched the two idiots, who were now basically his family, wrestling with children - and the sudden realization that Bane knew more than John had thought, this whole time Bane knew the hurt John felt from years of unhappy Christmases as a child - and although he couldn't change John’s past, he could brighten the lives of the kids in that same orphanage today - and that was enough, it was _so_ enough.

John wiped the tears that had begun to well up in his eyes away, and ran in to try and help the two seasoned warriors who were very clearly losing to a gaggle of orphans.

~*~

They had finished at the orphanage, watched the kids open their presents - with the excitement of Santa dying down they began to become exhausted and John had helped put them all to sleep.

“Thank you.” John said sincerely, hand in hand as they walked back to their apartment - Barsad had offered to drive them, to which John had replied _‘If I never get in that car again it will still be too soon’_. Barsad simply shrugged and drove off, leaving them to walk home on a peaceful Christmas Eve night.

“I hope it is enough.” Bane replied, and John wondered if the man meant enough for him or for the children.

“It was perfect.” John squeezed Bane’s hand as if he could convey how much he meant that through the pressure, Bane hummed. John looked up to the sky, tiny flakes of snow were just starting to fall.

When they made it back to John’s apartment they settled onto the couch in front of the tree, and John idly considered how this is probably the first time in a week that Bane had showed up to his place actually invited - which also made him feel more than guilty for not inviting him over more often, not that Bane actually requires a formal invitation. He knelt down to grab the tiny present for Bane, handing it over.

Bane took the box and opened it gingerly, unwrapping the tissue inside painfully slowly. John jiggled his leg nervously. When Bane had finally finished, he held the open box in his palm - Bane’s face turned fond as he took in the tiny robin figure nestled inside, the silver key resting gently against it.

“I know it's not much…” John began, already feeling self conscious about the gift.

“It is beautiful.” Bane said plainly, lifting the bird up and holding it softly in his palm - it looked so tiny and delicate in his large hands. John flushed at how sincere Bane seemed, watched as Bane gazed lovingly at the figure. 

“That’s the spare key to my apartment.” John said, trying to avoid any further discussion about the bird. Bane looked surprised, as if he hadn’t even noticed the key - and then he got this watery look in his eyes that immediately made John wish they were back to focusing on the bird. John hastily picked up the other present under the tree, eyeing it suspiciously - the ‘from’ tag simply read “santa”

“Did you do this?” John asked.

“No.” Bane said without looking up from the key now held lovingly in his other hand. John wondered if Barsad had left something for them, after all - he had been in John’s apartment unattended for who knew how long before he kidnapped him. 

“You open it.” John said passing the suspicious package into Bane’s lap in an attempt to distract him. Bane reluctantly set down his two presents and began to open the new parcel with far less care than he had the tiny box. John was barely watching, until Bane spoke.

“It's for you.” He passed a card over to John, who opened it and quickly skimmed the contents.

_‘ Dear John,  
I know how hard it is for you to step out of your comfort zone, but it’s about time for you to have a Merry Christmas - so I took the liberty of picking something out for you, since you have too much of a stick up your ass to do it yourself._

_Merry Christmas, From Santa Claus’_

John simply stared at the note, brain struggling to come to terms with what he was reading. He glanced over at Bane whose eyes were a complicated mix of emotions - John snatched the box out of his lap and stared down in horror. A pair of tiny black lace panties and bra rested daintily in the surrounding tissue paper, it was covered in faux leather straps and metal clasps and John’s head swam at the vision.

“T-this is obviously a joke.” John stammered nervously.

“Is it?” Bane asked, his voice was flat, heavy with something John had heard before. He glanced up from where he was staring nervously at the lingerie, Bane was looking at him with a fiery intensity, eyes darkened with lust.

“Uhh…” John said lamely, “I mean I could - if you - uh… do you want me to wear this?” He was stumbling over his words, it felt like he was letting out some big secret by letting Bane know he was _willing._

“Yes.” Bane replied shortly, nodding his head as if to urge John on.

“Oh.” John said, somehow still surprised by the affirmation. “Okay, let me just - be right back.” John practically leapt up from the couch, dashing down the hall and into his bedroom with the package in tow.

As soon as he shut the door behind him he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside, picking out the bra and slipping it over his head experimentally. It must have been an a-cup or something, because the fabric sat flush against his skin - a tiny strap with a buckle ran straight across his nipples, a second one sat a few inches under that. He turned to look at himself in the full length mirror by his closet, he flushed when he saw himself.

He knew he probably looked ridiculous, he had to... But he couldn't hold back the tiny thrill that ran through him, he _liked_ it - liked the look of himself like this, liked the feeling of the soft lace pressed against his skin, leather straps hugging him with just the right amount of pressure. He took the panties out, shedding his pants and sliding those on too - doing up the buckles for all the leather straps, around the top of his thighs and up to his waist, in a crossing in an x over his abdomen.

His dick didn't exactly fit in the panties, but with a little adjustment he seemed to have found a way to stuff it in there anyway - he looked back to the mirror, taking the whole thing in. Was he really about to do this? And then his feet were carrying himself back to the door, opening it and emptying his mind of any thoughts. Bane was standing there, as if he couldn’t wait - he groaned at the sight of John before him, who flushed deeply. 

Bane pushed him back into the room, hands pressing lightly into John’s exposed skin - he stepped backwards, until his knees hit the soft edge of his mattress. Bane closed what small distance was left between them, his body pushing fully against John - crowding into his space.

“I will not be able to control myself, if you look like that.” Bane hissed into John’s ear, cold metal brushing against the side of his face - he shivered, unsure if it was from Bane’s words or the chill on his skin.

“Show me.” John said breathily, arms flying up to clutch at Bane’s sturdy biceps. It seemed the other man did not need any further encouragement. He grabbed John, pushing him so that he would fall back into the bed behind him. He landed softly, short, anticipatory breaths coming from him in rapid succession. John hadn’t felt this kind of excitement before, mixed with the hot shame that he felt for wanting this so much - a shame Bane seemed to take no part in.

Bane’s hands traced John’s body, taking great care to feel along the lace of the bra, the buckles and straps, then down along the dip of John’s stomach - his breath hitched as Bane’s hand reached the waistband of the delicate panties.

The line of John’s erection was clearly visible through the sheer black lace, and it twitched with excitement as Bane’s hand slipped further down. His fingers caressing the fabric that was pulled taut over John’s swelling cock.

“Bane…” John whined, hips jerking forwards as fingers brushed over him lightly - far to light to be considered anything but teasing. “Please.” John begged, squirming underneath the touch.

Bane sat back, and John’s hips raised up off the bed, back arching, as if to try and chase after the touch as hands withdrew from his body. He watched as Bane began to strip off his own clothing, and then John’s brain seemed to suddenly jump start again - and he was rolling over to dig out the tiny bottle of lube stored in his bedside table.

As he settled back into a comfortable position on the bed, Bane was finishing undressing - sliding his underwear down to reveal his own erection standing straight, swollen and thick. John swallowed involuntarily at the sight, and then Bane was grabbing his hips, pulling him down roughly until his legs rest on either side of Bane - his groin pressed firmly against the other man's hips.

John rolled his hips up, letting his lace swathed shaft drag against Bane’s own bare one. The breathing above John stuttered, catching in on itself. And then Bane was taking control back, lifting up the bottom edge of John’s panties and sliding his cockhead under so that they could touch skin to skin. John’s tip was leaking precum, he could feel it slickening the slide of their cocks against one another - could feel it soaking through the fine lace of his panties, warm and wet, clinging against the both of them as Bane thrust with short controlled movements inside John’s underwear. 

He was shaking - shocked by how he was so close to cumming from only this, he felt over sensitized from the additional friction of the lacy fabric, the light pressure that enclosed around their cocks as they slid together. John’s voice escaped him in desperate, gasping moans - too hazy with pleasure to even feel embarrassed by them. Bane’s eyes watched John closely, as if he didn’t want to miss a single second of John coming undone under him. The parted lips, the glazed over look in his eyes, the tiny droplets of sweat on his skin.

“C’mere.” John said dreamily, and Bane leaned forward - releasing his grip on one of John’s hips to run his fingers over damp lips - John's tongue licked out, sliding between Bane’s digits and wet them sloppily. Bane’s voice growled in his chest, he pushed his fingers in past John’s lips and let them rest there as he kept the steady pace of his thrusting.

Before he knew it, John was cumming, eyes screwed shut, teeth unintentionally biting down on the fingers in his mouth. He shot his load into the lace underwear, cum soaking the front - a damp spot blooming as he finished. Bane pulled his cock out from under the lace, still hard and covered in John’s cum. 

“Sorry.” John said softly, mouth opening for Bane to withdraw his fingers. He was still coming down from the mental fuzz that took over after he came. Bane grunted, seemingly unaffected by the tiny nip marks left on his skin. And then a strap was being torn from around John’s waist, Bane using it to bind his hands and tie them to the headboard.

“Hey!” John shouted, “These things are like sixty dollars!” He complained as Bane tightened the bindings so that John couldn’t move his wrists, but not so much that they were painful.

“I will buy you another.” Bane said - hot air from his mask gusting out over John’s skin, he shivered pleasantly at the promise. And then Bane was pulling John’s underwear down, freeing his softening cock, and tossing them aside. He ran his fingers through the mess of cum splashed across John’s abdomen before trailing his fingers down, pressing them lightly against the tight pucker of John’s hole.

And then he was pushing in, the slickness helping to ease his fingers in smoothly. John whined breathily as they filled him, muscles clenching around the intrusion, tugging uselessly - mindlessly - against the straps around his wrists. Bane hooked his fingers as soon as they were deep enough, pressing them sharply against John’s prostate - whose cock twitched in a valiant effort to harden for a second round.

Bane massaged into the spot, worked John open slowly until he was fully hard again. Bane withdrew his fingers, and John made a tiny noise of protest - he wanted to touch himself, fist his aching cock and fuck into it until he found release. But his hands were bound, and he was forced to watch as Bane took up the bottle of lube from where it had fallen to rest next to John’s side - flicking it open and squeezing out a pool of the thick liquid into his palm.

For a moment, Bane looked down at John - as if taking it in, the picture of John laid out helpless in front of him, arms fastened firmly above his head, cum smeared messily across his abdomen, sweat running down the center of his chest. And John was about to bite out harsh words, for him to ‘hurry the fuck up’... Instead he flinched in surprise as Bane placed his lube covered hand onto John’s stomach, rubbing it there to warm it, before scooping it back up and coating his stiff cock with it.

“You’re disgusting.” John said without feeling, and Bane’s eyes crinkled in a smile as he finished slickening himself - lining up, pressing the blunt head to John’s ass.

“Are you ready, my little Robin?” Bane asked, humor evident in his voice even through the distortion of his mask.

John snorted - “If you don't hurry up I'm gonna fall asleep.” He lied, really there was no danger of that… His body was a live wire, taut with anticipation, electricity surging through him with every little touch of Bane’s skin against his. Still, Bane moved as if the threat was real, pushing into John steadily - hands gripping harshly into his thighs and lifting him up for a better angle.

Even with all the prep in the world, taking Bane’s massive cock was still quite the endeavor. His muscles burned, mixing pleasure and pain as they stretched open. The liberal application of lubricant helped, and he could feel the excess dripping down the back of his ass. John shifted as best he could with his arms above his head, shoulders pressing into the mattress, and legs caught in Bane’s iron grip. And then Bane was moving, slowly at first - pulling himself out of John and pushing back in. The angle was punishing and the head of his cock dragged heavily against John’s prostate as he moved.

Just as John was beginning to adjust to the new pressure inside him, Bane picked up the pace - thrusting faster, with more force. Somewhere in the back of his mind John was aware of the embarrassing sounds he was making, soft, sobbing moans, as jolts of pleasure threaded through his body. He was suddenly intensely aware of the delicate lace fabric rubbing lightly against his chest as he was fucked roughly into the bed.

“Bane…” John pleaded, struggling with the bindings on his wrists - desperately wanting to reach out and touch his lover. Bane merely growled, leaning over John, cock pushing in even deeper - something John hadn’t realized was even possible at this point. He could feel Bane’s muscular thighs pressed firmly into his ass cheeks. Bane’s hands suddenly left John’s hips, he could still feel the sting of their grip on his skin. He was about to protest the sudden stilling of their bodies, as he squirmed impatiently under Bane’s oppressive weight.

But before John could open his mouth to speak, Bane’s warm hand wrapped firmly around John’s cock, stroking upwards in jerky, uncoordinated movements. John cried out, back arching with the sudden, pleasant sensation. John could feel Bane tensing above him, could _feel_ as the man’s cock pulsed from within him, and finally John’s brain kicked in with the realization that Bane was cumming.

A sudden, intense heat filled him - a familiar pressure, the one that lingered behind even after Bane pulled himself out of John. The one that got John immediately hard in his pants, whenever his mind strayed accidentally to this sort of thing - outside of the bedroom. Bane’s breathing was ragged as he came down, hand still fumbling over John’s cock - it wasn’t a particularly practiced movement in this moment, but John could feel Bane’s thick cum inside of him, felt the mans softening cock give one final twitch - and it sent him over the edge. John’s muscles tightened, his own climax drawing near.

He cried out, painting cum across Bane’s stomach - hands gripping tight to the rung of the headboard that he was fastened to, eyes screwed shut... And then he was coming down, his own heavy breathing matching Bane’s. He was suddenly acutely aware of a soreness in his arms, from behind held above his head the entire time. 

He was about to say something, when his words died on his breath. He saw Bane unhook the clasps that held his respirator on, letting it fall to the side of the bed next to them. And, before John could really register what was happening Bane’s lips were on his - tongue licking hungrily into John’s mouth, as if to devour him. The skin around Bane’s face was rough, scarred, brushing against John’s own smooth skin.

John was too focused on the kiss to allow himself to feel guilty for wanting more, chasing after Bane’s lips with his own - matching the other man’s desperation completely. He knew that the pain would soon overwhelm Bane, that they couldn’t stay like this for long, so he greedily took all he could before the time came that Bane would pull away from him.

It didn't take long for Bane to grunt in pain, breaking the kiss - expression pinched. And then the mask was back on, shaky hands refastening the clasps that held the metal contraption tight to his face. Bane took a moment to breath in the relieving medicated air, his face relaxing again into something more at peace - before quickly morphing into something of regret.

“I’m sorry.” Bane said softly, and John hated the way he was looking down at him. Like Bane thought he was somehow holding John back from a normal relationship - as if John was even _capable_ of having a normal relationship, whatever the hell _that_ was.

“Shut up.” John said sharply, finding himself once again lamenting the restriction of his hands - he wanted to reach out and take the big idiots face in his hands, prove to him how much he _didn't_ care if Bane couldn't kiss him for long - “I love you.” John reminded him.

“Of course.” Bane said simply, as if he hadn’t just had a moment of sudden inner turmoil. “And I you.” with that, Bane flopped heavily down over John.

“Wait - can you uh, untie this?” John asked tugging at the straps. Bane gave the least convincing snore John had ever heard from where he lay face down on top of him.

“DON'T YOU DARE...” John flailed as much as he could under Bane’s weight, which was actually a pretty impressive amount considering. Bane’s continued fake snoring probably would have been more convincing if John couldn’t hear the occasional huff of laughter mixed in.

~*~

It was Christmas day, and seeing as how they had already opened all their presents… They instead invited Barsad over for tea and coffee. John set the machine to brew while Barsad and Bane did that weird thing where they just looked at each other, like they were having some sort of covert conversation with just subtle facial movements.

“Stop that, you’re freaking me out.” John said, setting an empty mug in front of Barsad and one with tea for Bane.

“How was your Christmas?” Barsad asked John suddenly, the coffee pot beeped - signaling that it had finished.

“It was um…” John looked away flushing, grabbing the pot and pouring into their mugs.

“It was fine.” Bane said, a hint of warning in his voice - John still couldn’t figure out the weird dynamic between them, they were like brothers but Bane always seemed to think Barsad was going to make a move on John. Barsad seemed about as interested in John as he might have been in lint, or paint chippings.

“Was your gift some sort of joke?” John asked, because really it was a pretty unsettling coincidence that Barsad had given them the lingerie set - and there was _definitely_ no way he knew about John’s inclinations.

“What gift?” Barsad asked, sounding genuinely confused. Both Bane and John looked at him with utter shock.

“Th-the box, I mean… The present you left, under the tree?” John stammered out, not exactly wanting to elaborate on it further out loud.

“I left nothing under your tree.” Barsad said bluntly, looking at John like he was particularly slow.

“Christmas magic.” The words whispered quietly from behind Bane's mask, his eyes sparkling with wonder.

“Absolutely not.” John said stiffly, taking a giant swig of his own coffee as if it were his life support.

~ FIN ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I'm writing porn and I’m like, is this at all different from any of the other porn i’ve written? How does one keep it interesting? Why do I feel the need to have like, a sex scene every ten minutes - thus making things that much harder for myself?


End file.
